Underestimated Potential
by ChaosMaster1234
Summary: Daughter of Hera? Great. First I'm labeled as 'Olympus's Most Wanted' because of Zeus. Now I've learned that I'm the lamest demigod EVER. Seriously, what can a demigoddess of marriage, family, and childbirth do?
1. Chapter 1

_Drip. Drip. Drip._

Water from my wet hair patters on the bathroom floor. I grabbed the hair dryer from under the sink, inspecting it. The cord had looked like it had been wrapped tightly around the handle and then mercilessly thrown back in here.

I took it anyway, the cord dragging against the floor. Tying the rest of my hair up, I focused on blow-drying the back of my head.

Ten minutes later and halfway done with my head, my loud roommate Joan Tarley comes in, popping gum and loudly singing the words to "Swagger Jagger."

"Joan." I try to call out to her.  
"_I can't stop, It's what it gon' be, my swagger's in check!"  
_"Joan, please—"  
"_Swagger Jagger, Swagger Jagger, You should get some of your own_—"

"Joan!" I exclaimed, and she finally pulled her big headphones off, making her bleach blonde hair fall back into its normal position.

"Dude, you just interrupted my flow!" She said, whining. I rolled my eyes and turned the hairdryer back on, drying the last parts of my hair. My hair, a chocolaty-red color, flowed down to my chest in straight locks.

Looking at Joan's blonde hair, I felt envious. I wish I had naturally wavy hair too!

I went to go put the blow-dryer back under the sink. Carefully, mind Joan, who throws it down here. I heard a knock on the door as I came back, and before either of us had a chance to open it up, the door was unlocked by my least favorite teacher's skeleton key. Mrs. Thresh.

Mrs. Thresh was the epitome of evil. She was just as ugly as her mean personality. Short gray hair, cold blue eyes, and wrinkly skin—a true witch at heart and in looks. She was the teacher that deemed everyone as a troublemaker except for me. She just hates me.

"Lights out, ladies. You should know that 9 o'clock is your bedtime." She scolded, talking to us like we were two and not twelve.

"Yes, Mrs. Thresh." I said, and then I realized I was alone on this one. I looked at Joan worriedly. Mrs. Thresh glared at the blonde, the hatred in her eyes showing.

"Yes, Mrs. Thresh," Joan groaned in a bored voice, not caring. My eyes widened. Didn't she know what Mrs. Thresh could do to her?

Luckily, the old witch only glared at her. "Go to bed." She declared coldly and then walked off.

I headed off to bed.

* * *

In the morning, I woke up bright and early. Climbing out of my peacock patterned sheets, I slipped on my fuzzy white slippers. It took a long time to decide, but I settled for mascara and lip gloss. For my hair, I left it down.

Running back to my closet, I tried to pick out an outfit. Today was special. It was my last day at Upton Academy, and I was looking very forward to seeing my father, Reginald Tyler.

Dad was a nice man. He worked as a pediatrician, and I planned to become one, since I loved taking care of kids. Dad said that I got that trait from my mother. He said I looked like her, acted like her, and talked like her.

Sometimes I really just wanted to know who this lady was.

I decided to wear a pink blouse, black jeans, and soft pink sandals. I added a black blazer and reached for my lotus flower pin. It was a gift from my mother, so my father tells me. I pinned it to everyone I wore except swimsuits and my pajamas.

Pinning it to my jacket, I closed my closet door and looked around for Joan. Not a trace. Figures; she always leaves before me so she can go chow down on the breakfast in the cafeteria. I prefer the golden apples and pomegranates in the mini-fridge I keep. Much more nutritious.

I left the room and went to the left wing of Upton Academy where my first class took place.

* * *

The last day of school had been great, but before I could finally go back home, I had to suffer through Mrs. Thresh's math class.

I sat in the middle, near the window, far away from Joan, who often got me in trouble. So we were doing a worksheet, and I didn't know how to do it. It's not my fault that I'm dyslexic. I desperately wanted to ask for help, but I would never ask the old witch to explain it to me. Dad said my mom was the same way—she'd never ask for help.

"You have ten minutes to finish," She announced. I let out a silent sigh.

Looking back at my paper, I chewed the eraser on my pencil and looked at my problems. Hmm…is that a 3 or an 8? Ugh, stupid math.

I'm working as hard as I can, but I just can't figure them out. The numbers on the page are getting jumbled up and it's making my eyes hurt.

The school bell rings and I'm out of luck. I raise my hand while everyone else is getting up, ready to pack the things from their dorms and go home.

"Yes, Virginia?" She asked, sounding annoyed. Oh, my name is Virginia Tyler, but I prefer to be called Gin or Ginny.

"I need help with my assignment." I said sheepishly. "I didn't get to finish it." Mrs. Thresh quirked an eyebrow and glanced at me, then my paper.

"Hmm," She hummed as she walked over. "Looks like you didn't get to start it either."

As the words left her mouth, a few giggles came from people leaving the classroom. My cheeks burned. "Well, um, I _am_ dyslexic." I said.

"Technically, Miss Tyler, you have dyscalculia, which is more of a 'math dyslexia.' From what your other teachers have told me, you are actually acceptable in writing, but math troubles you greatly."

"So you're saying, I can write okay for a dyslexic person, but I can't do math?" I asked, making sure I understood. She nodded.

She went over to her chalk board and wrote something on her board. They were numbers, but they were in Greek and I could read them quite clearly.

"What does this say?" She asked, tapping her long fingers over the numbers.

"Twenty plus four divided by four minus four." I answered. She nodded in approval.

"What is the answer?"

"Seventeen.

"Explain your work."

"You have to divide four and four first, and you get one. Then you add twenty and one, then subtract four from twenty one. Seventeen is the difference." I answered. I actually surprised myself. "Why am I so much better at reading Greek?"

"Some students are more hardwired for it. I, myself, could read it better when I was young. But eventually I was good at English. Next problem." But there was something about her tone that told me that wasn't it.

Was there another reason for my Greek intelligence?

* * *

Finally.

_I'm free! I'm free! _ I chanted in my head. I was carrying two suitcases of my clothes and personal belongings and my backpack on my shoulders down the street. I was heading towards my apartment building.

The bad thing about it was that it was ten blocks away and I would have to see my stepmom, Lissa. She's very pretty, with pitch black hair and shiny green eyes, but I can tell she never wants to be around me. And when my father is out and it's just the two of us, she's always rude and curt.

I groaned in annoyance. My suitcases were dragging down my arms, because Dad thought it was a good idea to not get a rolling suitcase. Something about building up muscle and what not.

Only about six more blocks to go, Gin. Then Dad will probably have his special spaghetti and iced tea set out for me.

As I crossed another street, I heard a caw. It sounded like a crazy bird, but I'm guessing it was not a pigeon. It looked up in the air and saw an eagle flying directly towards me. It looked absolutely enraged and its talons were razor sharp.

And it was heading straight for my face.

* * *

**A/N: I want everyone who read this to tell me how I did. I don't even care if you tell me that it was horribly cliché and unoriginal. Just tell me what you thought!**

**If you want to know what Gin looks like, just picture Shailene Woodley. Gin is supposed to have auburn hair and hazel eyes.**

**Cheerio, my darlings!**


	2. Chapter 2

The eagle was only five feet away and finally my senses kicked in. I fell flat on my butt, scrambling backwards as the eagle turned and swooped back in for me. My eyes dropped to the talons. They were golden and as curved as hooks.

I then rolled backwards as I got back on my shaky feet.

"Eee! Eee!" It cawed, trying to claw at my face. I maneuvered my body in a different direction every second, trying to misguide the crazy bird.

It started bat its wings at my face, dark wings getting in my eyes and mouth. I coughed and tried to swat at the bird.

"Move! Get away from me! Ugh, spawn of Satan!" I cried out, whimpering in pain as the bird swiped a thin line on my chin.

I managed to make the bird back up a few feet by spitting in its face (Hilarious, by the way). I bent down and grabbed a sizeable rock and hurled it at the bird.

The rock hit the eagle in its beak. The bird let out a pain-filled squawk as it flew off, swirling around in circles instead of in a straight line.

I sighed, my cheeks red from my heavy breathing. I picked up my suitcases and continued on to my house.

Passing by familiar, tall buildings, I breathed in the New York air. Oh, home sweet home. I was practically glowing with happiness. Like a bird from a cage, I'm free!

Finally, I reached my house. It was a large house with a few windows, painted beige and white. I gazed up at the windows near the top. Somewhere up there, a plate of hot spaghetti and a glass of ice tea were waiting for me.

I went up the stone stairs and set my suitcases down. I knocked vigorously on the door.

"Who is it?" A light voice asked. My mood drops. It's Lissa. No doubt her gold-digging friends are with her.

"It's Gin!" I answer anyway. After a few minutes (yes, that long), she opened up the door.

"What are you doing here?" She asked in a harsh voice.

"I live here. Today was my last day of school." I answered and rolled my eyes. I didn't give her a chance to reply and barged right in.

I mean, it was my (and Dad's) house way before she moved in. She kicked my suitcases that I forgot were there into the house. I got them up from the floor, glaring at Lissa before heading to my room.

My old room looked relatively the same, minus the various beer bottles, chip and popcorn bags, and used makeup sponges on the floor.

It took twenty minutes, but I made my room neat and clean, just like how I left it at Christmas break.

"Just how I like it." I sighed. Dad said that my mom was the same way, always making things tidy and orderly.

I unpacked my peacock-patterned bed sheets and started to place them on my twin bed, which only now contained my mattress.

"_The peacock is the sacred bird of Hera, goddess of marriage." Mr. Brunner said, getting up from his desk to walk around the class._

_I was in History class, by the window again. I started out of the window, not listening very much._

"_Gin?" I snapped my head towards Mr. Brunner, my reddish-brown hair flipping. "Since you are so _interested_ in the lesson," He said with a disapproving glance, "could you tell us how the peacock got its 'eyes'?"_

_I looked around at my classmates, who were smiling and giggling._

_It's not that Greek mythology bores me, it's very exciting. I just wasn't into it today._

"_Hera sent Argos to watch over Io, who was now a cow. Then Hermes was sent by Zeus to slay Argos. He killed Argos by closing all one-hundred of his eyes. Hera then put his eyes into the peacocks' tail feathers to remember him." I said. I always did like Hera's stories._

"_That is correct." Mr. Brunner said, while giving me a so-you-did-do-your-homework look.)_

I was finished and then I just started to put my clothes up, when I heard the door open. I perked up instantly and I dropped the blouse that I was holding.

I got up and walked out of my room. As I reached our living room, I saw my father. My hazel eyes widened up in happiness.

"Daddy!" Was the first thing I yelled and I ran to him. He turned to me with a huge smile and opened his arms.

My father was a middle-aged man with fair skin, bright blue eyes and black hair that was starting to gray a bit, but I'd never consider him old. His youthful attitude reflected from his golden heart.

"Ginny, my baby!" He said and he picked me up and hugged me tight. I didn't even mind that I was practically crushed in his arms; I was just glad to finally receive one of my Dad's awesome hugs.

I finally managed to pull myself back from and stared up at his face. His smile was a mile wide.

"How has my baby been?" He said and ruffled my hair playfully. I groaned jokingly at the action and he moved in and pecked my forehead.

"I've been great, Dad. How was your day at work?" I said.

"It was fine. I did a few check-ups, spoke to a few parents. Nothing interesting." He said and walked over to the living room, setting his trench coat on the couch.

Lissa moved over to him, smiling sweetly. "Hi, Reggie." She said. I almost gagged at her tone. My dad hugged her and kissed her lips (which also made me gag).

"Hey, Lissa, what have you been up to?" He asked before heading to the kitchen.

"Oh, nothing special. The girls and I were just having a chat." She said looking back over to her friends, who waved. One of her friends sneered at me. I smirked and pulled at the corners of my mouth and wiggled my tongue, making a very weird face at her. Once I stopped, I saw Dad looking at me with a disapproving face. I sighed and blushed, a little ashamed.

"Gin, are you ready for some spaghetti?" Dad asked me. I instantly brightened up at this. Running into the kitchen with a smile, I said, "Most definitely!" Dad gave me a grin and handed me the hard sticks that would soon be spaghetti. I filled a pot with water and set it on the stove. I cut the stove on, bringing the water to a boil, and added the spaghetti.

"I'll take it from here, Virginia. Why don't you get started on the tea?" He asked me. I nodded and took the box of tea bags out of the cabinet. I took a smaller pot, put water in it, and set it diagonal from the spaghetti pot. I brought it to a boil and then poured it over the tea bags I set in the pitcher. After the I let it steep, I stirred it, removed the tea bags and started adding sugar and ice cubes.

Within a few minutes we were all going to the table , pouring glasses of iced tea, and piling our plates with spaghetti.

* * *

**I'm sorry if this chapter was crappy. And I'm sorry for being so late with this. The next chapter should be when they go to Camp Half-Blood or something like that and I'll try to make it better. But you know, the Daughter of Hera might not be too good at battle, so we'll see how she does against a monster!**


End file.
